


Best Guess

by myria_chan



Category: Free!
Genre: Bets, M/M, Oblivious Ai
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-09 11:16:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3247652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myria_chan/pseuds/myria_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone believes Aiichirou is head over heels in love with Rin, wearing his heart proudly on his sleeve for his beloved senpai. Too bad he isn’t. Or is he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I find sheer joy in dawdling and nonsense. Best example is this fic: lots of dawdling and nonsense of the same things. Also I wanted to explore how Ai relates to the other members of the casts. So please expect a random character popping at every direction. There is a running trope about Ai and his impalpable admiration to Rin. A notable amount of fanwork has been dedicated in exploring that spectrum of their relationship. But wouldn’t it be fun to see Ai having absolute no idea of his could-be-love with Rin? And Rin’s the one with profound feelings of one-sided affection bordering to happily-ever-after?
> 
> This fic will probably run by 3 chappies (4 chapters at most). Hope it doesn’t bore you until the very end. Thank you very much for taking the time to read this. :D

* * *

It starts, quite surprisingly, with Rei Ryuugazaki, at the time when Rei is down deep with gratitude and Aiichirou offers the Samezuka Kitchen for the butterfly cookies project—practical and convenient as it is since the recipient of his culinary masterpiece lives on the very grounds, thus the confectionary creations will retain its freshness before the day ends. Aiichirou thinks it is highly generous of Rei to repay his Rin-senpai with such kindness.

The speculation happens in a casual and polite manner, beginning the very moment Rei sets the timer and closes the oven door.

“Rin-san and you are no longer roommates?” The question hangs in the room like a curtain of dread; Rei straightens his posture and looks at him in the eye, a flicker of concern flashing briefly in his eyes. “That must be very terrible. How are you bearing it?”

Aiichirou blinks at that, skeptical to the extent of distress shading underneath the question. “Just fine,” he says in honesty, “there’s no helping it.”

Part of the academy policy is to room students in dorms, a complete requirement specifically to the members of the school clubs. In order to build camaraderie and to solidify the foundation of teamwork, first years and second years are designated in pairs. While in consideration to the needs of graduating students, what with college, convocations and career opportunities lurking at their feet, third years are roomed together.

This particular arrangement has already been discussed to them since Day 1, and so the inevitability of having to separate with Rin Matsuoka is something sort of expected. Aiichirou’s only regret is that the parting came at a time he and Rin are starting to enjoy each other’s company.

They have come a long way—he and his Rin-senpai. They started on a rough patch of misguided projection of needless anger and excessive hero-worship, but they have managed to mend their ways.

Aiichirou will definitely miss the happy moments when Rin berates him for leaving their room unclean, the study sessions in English and Math that he finds confusing, and the shared hellos on early morning and goodnights quiet evenings, to name a few. He has grown quite used with having to see Rin before he goes to sleep that it will probably take a longer time to recondition. There will be fewer journal entries for his Rin-senpai.

He can but breathe his relief knowing that his Rin-senpai is now roomed with his childhood friend, Sousuke Yamazaki-senpai. Although there is a significant improvement in his Rin-senpai character, he can be quite the crank when he’s in a foul mood, which can be quite the tedious task to deal with especially since it bursts in quirks and flares. At least with a childhood friend around, Aiichirou can be quite assured his Rin-senpai has someone reliable nearby, someone to cool him down when Aiichirou’s not around.

He, on the other hand, has a truck-full of puppies released to the wilds after years of captivation in the physical manifestation of one Momotarou Mikoshiba. From the drought and desert that is Rin Matsuoka during his first year; Momo-kun is like the Pacific Ocean of bright sunshine and crystal clear waters. Nothing can possibly overwhelm him. Or drain him… Aiichirou sometimes wishes he owns the privilege to fire a tranquilizer to help his underclassman douse some of that high energy.

Just the other morning, he wakes up to the croak of a giant mutant toad, the primary perpetrator with his amphibian accomplice on both hands, requesting his participation on a social experiment on whether or not frogs do turn into dashing princes with true love’s first kiss—Aiichirou has to run for dear life at that, Momotarou in tow still with his warts-y companion.

He shudders at the memory—can still remember the expanding vocal sac even with his eyes closed—and sighs a heavy one. 

His pensive trail of thoughts must have caught the fancy of his current companion; Rei is chuckling, and Aiichirou schools his expression back to its happy, feel-good state.

“It really is fine. There’s a lot to get used to but we’ll survive.” _Hopefully_ , his mind adds.

“There’s no need to explain,” Rei replies, shakes his head, meaning no offense, “Distance can inflict the slightest of love sickness, even with the most stable of relationships. As illogical and as insignificant as I find it is, love can be quite the driving factor for most of the co-species. You seem to belong to that portion of the demography.”

“Love sickness?” Aiichirou frowns at Rei’s choice of words. This particular Iwatobi crew is known for his eloquence, careful choice of words and theoretical approach to all things conceivable, it is a surprise he’d include love in their conversation. “What would make you say that?”

An eyebrow quirks; Rei raises his glasses with one hand. “Aren’t you in love with Rin-san?”

Aiichirou tilts his head on one side, now significantly confused. “No, I’m not.”

The two find themselves in a staring competition, the heavy silence of their awkwardness and confusion slowly saturating the room; Rei tenses expressively with each passing minute. Cold sweat is beginning to collect on his forehead, a forced smile twitching at the corner of thin lips.

The sound of the timer clicking shut breaks the silence, followed by a very flustered apology.

“I have said something inappropriate. I assumed based on observation alone! Please forgive my imprudence—”

“No, it’s fine. Totally fine,” Aiichirou reassures him with a smile, and thinks it is the end of that.

* * *

It apparently is not the end of it, and the concurrent events to transpire are by far the most colorful myriad of redundancy in monotony Aiichirou has the misfortune to experience.

By the time he reaches his dorm room that same night, there are at least twenty messages in his inbox, courtesy of Gou Matsuoka. To avoid distraction during club activities, he makes it a habit to leave his phone in his room, concentrating all efforts in improving his skill and times.   

He and Gou gain correspondence sometime late summer last year when his Rin-senpai and his friends mended with each other. During one of their swim meets, Gou found out that Aiichirou is her brother’s designated roommate and instantly floods him with questions and updates about her brother. He thinks it is very sweet of her to be on the constant know-how about her brother, and is saddened by the fact that his Rin-senpai does not reply to her messages as often as she does. That is when they exchange contact numbers. Aiichirou promises to keep her posted with his Rin-senpai’s daily activities, academics and extracurricular, his friends and his teammates; occasionally snag a picture if he has time, and just well…keep her informed.

 At first he calls her Matsuoka-san, but she reprimands him. There is only one Matsuoka-san in existence and that is her mother. He calls her Gou-san then. Again she reprimands him because of her sensitivity with stereotypes and names. She is subjected to endless teasing and needless bullying during childhood because of her name.

It confuses him, which he voices out to her. He is also subjected to endless teasing and needless bullying during childhood because of his name, but Aiichirou thinks there is nothing cooler than to be named after Japanese royalty, and a warrior princess at that, unlike him whose name means love and first child, because his parents want their first born to grow up loving and be loved in return, like the sappy, romantic sort they are. As if his namesake is a plot for melodrama or romantic-comedy.

“There is nothing sappy and romantic about that!” Gou says to him in full confidence, eyes close to tears, apparently moved by his parents’ naming skills and philosophy.

And so a deal is made; intended to desensitize them with the insecurities brought about by their names. Aiichirou calls her Gou-san, and Gou calls him Aiichirou-kun.

During the course of their acquaintances, they have become close, exchanging various trivia about swimming, offering finer points on training patterns. There were moments that they become each other’s tutor for subjects at school. There are also those cheers and messages of support before the competition. But the best part is that sometimes they talk about dogs, furry animals, books and muscles and they listen to each other intently.

They become that sort of friends: the ones who just listen. Their friendship becomes a treasure, because it is hard living in a world that thinks it’s a joke to like their respective interests, a world that uses their names as laughing stock. Aiichirou-kun and Gou-san grow up a little.

One of the consequences of the new transfer is that they have fewer things to talk about now. He wishes their relationship won’t change, but knew deep down that there will be changes—inevitable, justifiable changes.

He sighs in definite audible range of the other occupant of the room.

Momotarou presses pause. “Everything alright, senpai?”

Despite his bright and breezy disposition and run of the mill attitude, Momotarou Mikoshiba can be quite thoughtful when he wants to. The traumatizing events last Wednesday has him realize to be more mindful and considerate of his senpai’s well-being. It is refreshing seeing this side of his roommate. It makes Aiichirou believe in miracles and resent hasty judgments.

“It’s okay,” he says with a smile, “I was just reading Gou-san’s mails.” The moment the name escapes his lips, Aiichirou clamps his mouth shut. He has forgotten his new roommate’s massive crush on his Rin-senpai’s little sister.

“You have her number?” Aiichirou watches an unholy light flash on Momo’s eyes.

“Yes…” Cold sweat begins to form on his forehead, the memory of the warts-y frog still fresh in his memory. It is partly Aiichirou’s fault. Had he paid more attention to what Momotarou is saying the night before instead of ignoring the firebrand, the situation would not have escalated and there should have been no need of running through the corridors for dear life.

Momotarou is extreme, to say the least, but he listens when he told to do so. He reminds Aiichirou of a shibainu pup: energetic, relentless, wild, and but will behave accordingly if taught to do so. All he needs is discipline and limitations.

He applies that methodology whenever he is handling Momotarou now. “I could give it to you, Momo-kun, if you could just—”

The second statement is cut short as Momo bolts from his seat, hands flailing in all direction. “No, senpai!” Realizing the outrageousness of his actions, he scampers back to sitting position. “I mean thank you for the consideration, but I don’t think I’m strong enough for that.” Momo eyes at his phone warily, like it will flip out and attack him any moment. “Do you…that is…want me to leave the room so you can have…you know, privacy?”

“No, you can stay. I’ll take my call outside.”

Aiichirou crosses the room without another word, closing the glass door shut as he steps out to the veranda. Who knew Momo-kun could be so shy? Will he faint if Aiichirou scribbles Gou-san’s number down? Aiichirou chuckles once more.

He clicks on the touch screen and waits. His call is answered in three rings, and a soft, cheery voice replies at the other end of the line.

“Aiichirou-kun!”

“Gou-san, I’m sorry for replying so late. We had to stay back a bit more for practice.”

“No, no. That’s alright. I’m glad you still have time to call me back. Onii-chan said training in Samezuka starts getting intense as the competition draws near. How is it?”

“It’s…” What was the term he was looking for? “…survivable.” There are at least three new members who hurled every after practice, a significant improvement, compared to the five of last year.

“Sounds inspiring,” Gou-san’s laughter resonates from the other line. “I’m jealous of Samezuka’s facilities. At least the students don’t have to pay for using the sports amenities.”

“We pay with our tuition fees,” he replies, hinting that the said school charges aren’t that budget friendly to average students. To alleviate the financial concern, Samezuka is very generous of its scholarships. Sports scholarships are particularly rewarding if you place at competitions, but if you’re striving for consistency, the best channel is the academic scholarship. Either way, you will be sure of endorsements for the best schools and scouts.

“Yes, but they are worth it.”

“Yeah, they are.” There is no time limit for pool usage, after all. It is a good thing that Iwatobi’s has managed to find an indoor pool club, which allows discounts for students and afterhours extensions. “How’s training going for your side?”

“Well, it’s going smoothly. Now that the competition is near, I think it’s a good thing we don’t have much members. We can concentrate on all events. But hopefully we can get new members before the year ends. One is enough to keep the club alive until next year. Two will be gracious because there’s still hope in swimming relay!”

Aiichirou can hardly empathize with Gou. There is no shortage of members for Samezuka, but he supposes not every team is granted that luxury. The competition is very high but at least the fear of club dissolvent is not a concern.

“I’ll include them in my prayers, Gou-san.”

“Thank you, Aiichirou-kun.” Gou sounds relieved. “By the way, is my brother there? Mom wanted to ask him about something.”

“Oh… Rin-senpai mustn’t have told you yet, but we’re no longer roommates.”

“Eh?” It takes Aiichirou three minutes to explain to her the school policies on dormitories. It is a good thing Gou-san is a very avid listener. “I don’t believe it,” she says later, “Who is my brother rooming in with now? I do hope it’s someone pleasant.”

“He’s roomed with Yamazaki-senpai.”

“Eh? Sousuke-kun?” Gou-san’s voice is tinged with disappointment to Aiichirou’s surprise.

“Aren’t he and Rin-senpai good friends?” He thinks the childhood pair gets along well. They look like they get along in practice. They get along well outside of practice. They get along well like two complementary wings—strong in their own but needs the other to propel to greater heights, moving in fluid synchronization built upon mutual trust and support.

“Well they are. But _Sousuke-kun_ ,” Gou-san says his name in the similar exasperated tone. “He replies in one liner messages, like _yes, no_ and _k_. The last time I asked him how my brother is doing, his reply is that _Rin is still breathing oxygen_. I mean, what do you want me to make out of that? Do I have to call the police now? Is Samezuka a really safe academy?”

Aiichirou just laughs, unsure how to reply to that.

“And I thought I had a free pass on brother’s boyfriend,” she screams aloud, perhaps too loudly, that Aiichirou almost misses the last word.  

“Boyfriend?”

“Well, I suppose married would be a much more suitable term but that’s not legalized yet.”

“Gou-san, we’re just _friends_.”

“Of course, you both are. That’s why your relationship is so great. But I’m sure the two of you will come around eventually,” she says dismissively before he can say anything more. “Well, it’s best we end this conversation soon. You’ll still have early practices tomorrow morning, right? Rest well. Promise me you’ll still call even if it’s for something unnecessary, like English, alright?”

“I promise. You too, Gou-san. Good luck with your team. And don’t tire yourself too much.” Aiichirou makes sure to add the final sentence. He can still remember the last incident Gou-san blacked out during practice due to lack of sleep. She stays up late at nights to finish the revisions of their new regimen.

“Same to you, _brother-in-law_ ,” and their call ends like that.

Aiichirou remains blinking a minute after their conversation. He assumes it as a joke, believes in his heart it is, before retiring for the evening.

* * *

Monday morning practice ends with excitement. It signals the end of a grueling training session for the upcoming competition, and the start of the notorious Exam Week. Granted, athletic s scholars are not required to ace all their tests and be at the top of their classes, but they are required to meet an average grade to maintain their scholarships. But that is not the main concern…

“I’m saying Friday,” Takuya Uozumi starts, marking the date in red. “It’s the end of the school week. We can skip afternoon practice and meet up.”

“We can schedule on the weekends,” pipes Shouta Nakagawa.

“We have longer hours of practice during weekends,” says Toru Iwashimizu. “By the time we’re finished, we won’t have enough desire to go out, much less get off bed and have dinner.”

“But can we,” asks Kazuki Minami, “skip afternoon practice? Regionals are close.”

The group of second years dart their attention to Aiichirou, who flinches (a natural reaction) at their collective inquisitive gazes. With a sigh, he streams to the direction of their swim captain. He doesn’t understand the hesitancy of their group, to be honest. Rin-senpai has mellowed significantly since last year. He is not as volatile as before, and can be quite considerate to his subordinates when given the chance.

Rin-senpai is scribbling down on his clipboard, probably about speed records and member ranking. As a captain, he has to keep close records of his members’ performances for evaluation. That task is supposedly for their team manager, but Tora-san is out with a cold and Rin-senpai had to step up and do the task for him.

Rin Matsuoka is kind and thoughtful—Aiichirou smiled softly when he remembered the duck plushie Rin bought for him as a parting gift during the last swimsuit shopping spree—disciplined and motivated, read voraciously during his free time, a person who is not afraid to showcase his emotions, and magnanimous in owing up to his mistakes. He believes that natural talent can take you far, but it is hard work and earnest determination that opens limitless doors to the faithful.  He is as quick to forgive as he is as quick to anger. He isn’t above playing pranks and only teases those he’s closest to.

Rin-senpai is never short of amazing.

When he notices Aiichirou, he smirks and puts down his clipboard. “You wanted something, Ai?”

“Rin-senpai…” As for consideration, Aiichirou made sure to bother his Rin-senpai to a minimum, absolute talking about the necessary: like Friday Night Karaoke’s and Momotarou’s adventures of turning their dorm room to a wildlife breeding ground.

But back to priorities... “The second years are wondering if we can miss Friday’s afternoon practice this week.”

An eyebrow rises; then a question, “What for?”

“We’re planning to celebrate Exam Week with Karaoke.”

Rin makes a humming sound at the back of his throat and begins scribbling down his clipboard again. “I think I can write that as Team Building Exercise to help cut down the expenses. I’ll fetch you a permit and see if sensei would agree.”

“Really?” Aiichirou quickly reminds himself that he is grinning too much, and makes a point to be unruffled as possible. “I mean, we don’t want to impose. We can pay for the expenses, and write the letter.”

Rin dismisses the argument with a wave. “We still don’t know for sure if the faculty will agree. And we both know my grammar is much professional sounding than all you guys combined. You just focus on your studies and make sure everyone keeps their grades up before the competition, ‘kay?”

Aiichirou is touched. He knows the heavy burden a captain must bear to keep a National-level swim team at the top of their game. Rin-senpai also has studies to prepare for and the Olympics, and his family and his reading.  Still he manages to find a way to do Aiichirou a favor.

“Thank you, senpai! Do you want to come with us?” He asks the invitation not as an obligation but as a return of a favor, so to speak. Rin can benefit from a night of fun and musical mishap.

“Friday huh?” Rin flips a page from his clipboard to check on his schedule, and makes a clicking sound. “I have _budget meetings_.” Rin prolonged the last syllable to reflect his agony.

Aiichirou chuckled. “Sounds dreadful.”

“It is. Oh well, catch you later, Ai.” Aiichirou meekly bows to show his respect. He can’t help but giggle when Rin ruffled his hair, though. It is beginning to be a habit of theirs. Seeing how close and casual they are now, Aiichirou can’t help but think that the first few months he shared with his senpai and his unstable attitude is an explosive lie.

“You can stop smiling now.” Takuya winds his arm around Aiichirou’s shoulders so he can look him in the eye. “It’s freaking people out. Also, you should avoid googly eyes. It gives the freshmen leverage.”

“Leverage on what?”

“The betting game,” answers Kazuki. “We call it the Daily Life of Aiichirou Nitori Game. We bet on everything: your hobbies, your life, you and your relationship with Matsuoka-buchou.”

“You guys…”

“The entire team,” Takuya corrects, unfazed.

Shouta opens his mouth, about to defend what little remains of Aiichirou’s respect for them, and closes it. “It’s fun!”

“I will slaughter you all where you stand.” He allows a little annoyance to seep into his words. The second years are notorious in introducing unusual trends in the swim team, but for them to make a lifestyle out of his and Rin’s friendship is uncalled for.

Though if it was another couple involved, it does sound kinda fun.

“So,” Aiichirou probes, completely curious now. “What have you been betting on behind our backs?”

“Oh you know, the usual stuff.” Takuya makes a gesture on how small, although judging by Takuya Uozumi’s standards, nothing is ever too small. “What time of the day will you say good morning to buchou? How many times you asked buchou permission to time him? How many times you say senpai in a day? How many times Matsuoka-senpai called you Ai? Minami’s made a fortune out of that.”

Kazuki nods to his chagrin. “You make it _so_ easy.”

“The first years have very shoujo material,” Toru informs them with a deadpan expression, as if he’s reporting breaking news. “Stolen glances. Secret smiles. Hair ruffles. Momo has that department covered.”

“Momo-kun?” Aiichirou can barely believe his ears.

“It is disturbing how much Momo knows your patterns. He pinpoints the exact moment you stare at Matsuoka-buchou, and the very moment he ruffles your hair. Just like Mikoshiba-buchou.”

“Mikoshiba-buchou? Wait this has been going on since last year?”

“It’s a lifestyle,” chimes Toru.

“The third years are into darker, much mature themes, though,” continues Takuya to which Aiichirou raises a hand.

“I don’t need to know that.”

“You sure?”

“Final answer.”

“Well, that’s 300 yen more we owe to Yamazaki-senpai,” Kazuki tells the group, flashing shifty glances and groans on their stoic senpai.

“Even Yamazaki-senpai is betting on this?”

“It’s a lifestyle,” repeats Toru, “although if we did sum up the revenue, Nakagawa has the most accomplishments out of every one in the team.”

Shota summons the nerve to look pleased with such achievements. “I know your heart, brother.”

Aiichirou summons the nerve to not throttle him. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“It seems just like yesterday when Nitori-kun sang that beautiful melody that earned me the initial capital for business.” Shota disregards the questioning stares for his business and goes on reliving his happy memories. “Remember that song? You wrote it for buchou. You handled the arrangements and performed it at Matsuoka-buchou’s inauguration. It was beautiful. _He’s so perfect swimmer! He’s my perfect idol—_

 _“Senpai!”_  The rest of the second years completes the song with a ridiculous impression of his pitchy voice. 

“My voice is not that high,” Aiichirou says, offended now. The obscene bets he can handle. The inane creativity of his supposed behavior he can handle. But not his voice—Aiichirou is prepared to butcher them if must.

But like the good friend every person has at high school, his merry band of lovably cynical friends dutifully ignore his wounded pride and laugh their heads off, enough to break Aiichirou out of his peeved disposition and laugh along with them.

Friends: the greatest exception life has to offer.

“It should be ‘Senpai!’ with much more emotion and gusto,” says Shota, perfecting his impression.

“Love gives you so much emotion and gusto,” Kazuki remarks absentmindedly, making Aiichirou cringe.

 _Love_. Again. He should have figured this conversation is heading to this direction. Just how many times does he have to say it?

“I am not in love with Rin-senpai.”

“Of course, you are not.” Takuya rolls his eyeballs heavenward. “You stayed with him during his menopausal stage. You followed him around when he was homicidal. You wrote him a song. Who does that?”

“Nobody!” says Kazuki.

“Exactly, no one did it for him.” Everyone is too afraid of Rin and his mood swings, and now they are making a big fuss over what should be a normal human reaction to admiration and kindness.

“Nitori, listen, _nobody_ does that,” Takuya says the word with so much sincerity and resolve that it makes Aiichirou want to humor him, although he settles on a face of an utterly confused puppy to sell his point. Takuya gives up and snorts. “Whatever! One minute, you have stars in your eyes. The next minute, you act like falling in love is the most revolting thing in the universe. I will never understand emotional men.”

“You should settle for us assholes then, dick,” is Toru’s blasé comment.

“I call you bastards my friends.” Aiichirou shakes his head to that revelation.

The rest of day goes by uneventfully, though Aiichirou feels the need to write today’s crazy discoveries on paper. Writing has always been an excellent outlet of his emotions. It reminds him of the other almost forgettable moments in life, as well as the ones which changed him for the better. Uncapping his pen, he scribbles down his thoughts on himself, his Rin-senpai, love, and the esteemed correlation of those three topics courtesy of just about everyone around them.

Aiichirou has nothing against love, or falling in love against his senpai. He cannot reiterate what an amazing person Rin Matsuoka is. But love…

Love is all about a moment. That pristine, magical moment of absolute completion when the nuances of the universe coalesce to one perfect instant and forever is laid out for two seamlessly in sync beating hearts.

When his senpai’s around, Aiichirou is overwhelmed by this sudden surge of calmness, as if the world and all its perils will pass by smoothly because this person is around to guide him—which is why he is determined to help Rin through any means possible in achieving his dreams of becoming an Olympian, to see his shark-like, pointy, ridiculously contagious smile on every occasion there is; to return that unspoken generosity that inspired him to dream without limits and strive to be a better person.

 Aiichirou _quite_ _simply_   wants his senpai to find happiness because Rin has given him happiness a lifetime ago when they were young and swimming is for pure fun.

Admiration? Definitely. Respect? The answer is an obvious yes. But love?  Nitori frowns.

He has never been in love before, but everything he feels for his senpai are nothing like those written in his romance novels.

Aiichirou closes his journal for the night, convinced that too much dwelling over things he is sure of is bad for the health, when a resounding knock is heard from his door. Standing, he strides across the room and turns the knob.

The guest standing by the doorway put a smile on his face. “Rin-senpai!”

Rin returns the fervor with a smile of his own, leaning against the frame while brandishing a piece of paper within Aiichirou’s reach. “The faculty disagreed with covering up for the expenses, but they did allow a four-hour privilege for you children so as long as you are back before curfew at 8.”

Aiichirou holds the permit like a golden ticket. “You got it today? That’s amazing!”

“We had a meeting with Sugimoto-sensei, so I decided to bring it up.” His holds up his index for one final reminder. “Remember, be back before curfew. And study hard.”

Aiichirou nods enthusiastically. “Thank you so much! You’re the best, senpai!”

Rin chucks him under the chin and grins. “You’re very welcome. Have a fun night at Friday.” They let the conversation go with another hair ruffling session and good nights across the hallways, the night ending far more pleasant than how it started.

Who cares about the drastic rumors and silly bets? He and his Rin-senpai are as normal as any senpai-kouhai dynamic that can come at anyone’s way.

It isn’t until he heard Momo-kun giggling while texting on his bunk of the bed does Aiichirou realize he does care. Pressing his lips to a thin line, he flashes Momo his meanest frown.

Momo grins sheepishly. “I earned 500 yen for that reaction, senpai.”

Aiichirou rolls his eyes and gives up. His last thought of the day: he should reevaluate his choices of friends.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! So many kudos and comments! Here’s to hoping I live up to the expectations! *cheers. In this chapter, Ai will have Karaoke Fun Night with the Second Years and Momo, but will not make it to the medley team. On the lighter side of the events, Rin’s feelings makes a tiny debut, Momo matures, and the betting game escalates.
> 
> Please enjoy!

* * *

The rest of the week comes by like stomachache—unbearable, torturous, seemingly beyond any existential relief but nothing worth dying for. Overall, the Second Years prides over the knowledge of living through such exhilarating excruciation despite their horrific crammed study sessions; as busy competitive members of an acclaimed swimming powerhouse, they can only achieve so much with twenty-four hours and seven days; making Karaoke Friday’s all the more special.

Also, Aiichirou have made his friends pay with the money they earned from their little game.

“Why?” whines Takuya.

“You have earned,” Aiichirou declares with a mocking bow, “what you deserve.” It’s a fair deal since they are making extra income based on him. He takes a sip of his iced tea as a salute.

Kazuki whistles under his breath, delighted at Aiichirou’s newly found spine, and salutes back. “Sassy Nitori. We don’t have that on our playing boards.”

“Everyone has attitudes,” comments Shota and spares Aiichirou an acknowledgement of his own, as he browses through the pages of the song book, particularly interested in the bluesy jazz portion.

“Including Rin-senpai,” says Momo, horking down tacos, chips and nuts as if they don’t feed him enough in school. They manage to tag Momo along because he’s a fun kid to be with, he politely have asked to join, and if everything goes overboard, all five of them can just restrain him through sheer will power. Momo-kun can handle his idiosyncrasies around nature’s wild life and cute girls just fine, but necessary precautions are necessary for a reason.

As Momo munches while swallowing, he presses on over his exacting concern. “He gets cranky so easily. It’s scary sometimes.”

Aiichirou frowns at that. “Well, he’s a very emotional person.” As they say, it’s better he bursts in quick flares than erupt like a volcano. He shudders to think of another volcanic episode of their Rin-senpai. It’s hard for the people around him to deal with his anger, much more to himself, Aiichirou supposes; Rin-senpai manages to bear a lot of unnecessary grudges. He still hasn’t forgiven himself from last year’s debacles. “We all have our ways of dealing with predicaments.”

“Not that it matters.”

“Beg pardon?”

Momo gives him a toothy grin. “Rin-senpai’s perfect, after all.”

Toru decides to intervene. “That is as far as we go, Mikoshiba-kun. Nitori here believes he harbors no extra feelings for Matsuoka-buchou, and insists we share the sentiments—“

“Even if we don’t buy it?”

“Momo-kun!”

Shota taps his shoulder gently. “Denial is the first stage of love.”

“Or addiction,” he smartly retorts, baiting any of them to please discuss anything besides his imaginary romance with their beloved Rin-senpai.

“Addiction over your denial with your love for Matsuoka-buchou!” quips Takuya.

“When will this end?” Aiichirou sighs in exasperation.

“When will you two start?” kids Kazuki.

“I’m guessing never, then.” He waves a hand in the air as a sign of defeat. Deciding that the best way to end the conversation is to drop it altogether, he grabs for the songbook; they are gathered here to sing and let their stress free, after all, and belt his heart out he shall.

* * *

Toru Iwashimizu is chosen to swim breaststroke for the prefectural qualifiers of the 400m Medley Relay Race, a spot which he never shy away for aiming for since Rin-senpai’s impressive performance on the race last year.

It more than just garnered a week worth of suspension care of a positively miffed faculty and PTA members for Rin, it earned him the respect of even the stoniest of his colleagues.

Because as much as they hate to admit it; people go to school to represent excellence. Camaraderie is but a dazing bonus people burdened themselves to fit in. Students and parents choose Samezuka Academy to compete, to top, until that fateful day last year, when Rin-senpai swam with his original team from Iwatobi and everybody saw magic: the relay became more than a test of speed, more than representation, more than four players swimming in one lane of the pool united for the sheer purpose of finishing the race with the fastest time possible; and wanted to experience that.

Not that Aiichirou harbors any bitter feelings for Iwashimizu—he is proud of his teammate and is sure he’ll represent the team well—though he does not deny the unspeakable awkwardness between them. They all know what the relay meant to Aichirou: the final year to swim in a team with his Rin-senpai.  This is his last chance and he lost. Funny, he’s so used to losing but this is the first time he felt _frustrated_.

His friends are quick to pick up his mood—or were they expecting it?—ready to cheer him up at any given opportunity possible.

Here they are gathered under the shade, should be discussing the upcoming events of the competition, and all they have in mind is to suffocate him with further encouragement. He gets it. They care. They care a lot. But there should be more to his experience of bitter defeat than the obvious fact that he has been defeated so bitterly. And it won’t hurt if his buddies develop some semblance of normalcy in showcasing their concerns.

“We just wanted you to know that we’re totally respect your hard work, champ,” whispers Shouta, low and barely audible, Aiichirou would have missed it if he’s not looking. “How about we go ask buchou to let you in the medley as consolation?”

He counts from ten to one in an effort to ingrain the severity of the remark deeply in their consciousness before he hails the obvious, “The plan is to reward my hard work with… _pity_?”

“I will punch myself in the throat for that.”

Shouta seems to have gotten the point, and the smile that Aiichirou throws at him is affectionate and true.

“This is your entire fault, by the way.” Kazuki waves his spork like a wand, exchanging some of Aiichirou’s chow mein a portion of his greens when permitted. Kazuki tends to be extremely chatty when he’s on the edge, and it’s best to feed him before he vents to oblivion. He has a race to win, after all. He mutters a small _thanks_ for the abundant generosity before moving on with his case on point. “You brought this upon yourself.”

Aiichirou’s smile twirls a notch higher. As callous and tactless as Kazuki’s words may be, they do ring with truth. “I should have tried breaststroke ages ago,” he says absentmindedly. Had he have a decent year of experience, he could have qualified for Regionals… and the medley today. Re-mastering a technique based style is tough business.

“No!” Kazuki unnerves him back to reality with much indignation. “You should have stayed with long distance freestyle. It’s your thing. What were you thinking?”

“I wanted to excel in two types of strokes like Rin-senpai.” The collective silence gathered for his candidness drives him to assess his answer, which spirals down to one dreaded, unwanted conclusion, and the sigh he releases is long-suffering. “Who guessed it right?”

They all exchange looks with one another and mutter, “Iwashimizu.”

Aiichirou bites his lips. The awkward feelings resurface and they all forlornly stare at the lone figure munching on his sandwich, a careful distance away from their circle of noise. It is at this moment that Kazuki’s coping mechanism is put to good use.

“Or you could have picked backstroke, Nitori. Their spots are always out for grabs.”

There is also some semblance of truth in that. The Japanese due to their natural build are primed breaststroke swimmers, and with a thriving team like Samezuka, everybody is a breaststroke swimmer, except for the once who are not. 

Which is met a solid “No!” from Takuya, the first burst of light they have seen since his recent lost on his spot in the medley to Momo. “Backstroke is for long limbs and guns. We don’t need puny bird bones in backstroke.” It earns him a high-five from Shota. “No offense, Nitori.”

“None taken,” he says genuinely. “Mikoshiba-buchou suggested that my puny bird bones, my meticulousness in form and technique, as well as my endurance could be put into good use through breaststroke. What’s the worst thing that could have happened?”

“Toru Iwashimizu,” Shota says as a matter-of-factly.

“You _inspired_ Iwashimizu to be better,” Kazuki nitpicks with sarcastic delight and feigned condescension, “You rattled him. You suddenly decided to swim breaststroke and rattled him. Nothing breaks his composure. This is Iwashimizu we are talking about!”

True. Toru Iwashimizu is probably one of the notable persons who can face the end of the world without breaking his poker face. Like today, a great distance away from his fellow friends and he still wears the same bored, unruffled expression; yet, his eyes give him away: the sad, puppy eyes of a confused and abandoned French bulldog.

Aiichirou sighs another, rising to his feet in an attempt to take responsibility. He has, after all, brought this upon himself—that he can agree with. As per usual, Toru provides him with casual silence as Aiichirou reaches his side, taking a bite on his club sandwich while staring at a far-off distance.

“I’m very sorry for being inspirational.”

“You should be.”

“And I will beat the crap out of you.”

Toru openly scoffs, “Good luck with that.”

Aiichirou stands unaffected, understanding that this is Toru’s special way of acknowledging him as a rival. Also, the last year he spends dealing with Rin’s volatile nature has greatly increased his tolerance for disdain, as well as garnering him empathy for the aloof. Aiichirou is not going to lose a good friend over a sad case of melodrama.

“Anything else?”

Toru finally looks at him, and he smiles. “May you please join us for lunch? It is very disturbing to talk behind your back.”

A smirk first, then Toru credits him with a nod and a reply. “Gladly.”

* * *

Vowing to join Rin-senpai and his dream team at the Regionals is a breeze. Making a life goal out of is easy, uncomplicated. Proving that he can claim the coveted spot by month’s end is momentous. The entire ordeal encompasses beyond focus, perpetual motion, fundamentals of swim styles, dietary adjustments and trust issues. Apparently, rest is a vital part of the training proper and his failure to recognize the essentiality of which to his improvement has rewarded him with unwarranted fatigue and ruined form, ultimately piling up to a poor performance at actual competition.

Or so his Yamazaki-senpai will like to extensively berate him about.

But the greatest boon of Aiichirou Nitori’s character is that he is headstrong to a stubborn fault, will not back down even if held by gunpoint, that even the most insurmountable of perils will fail to dent to his determination once he put his passion into it.

Take for example: he is under a stern warning of his Yamazaki-senpai to have a life other than swimming.

Aiichirou does have a life other than swimming. He loves reading, which is why he is in the library, making full use of his free hours, scouting for the best self-help books on swimming possible, seeking the latest tips or tricks to shave even a third of a second on his time.

Two birds with one stone.

There are so many books to choose from; Aiichirou feels a little overwhelmed browsing the selection from annexes of physics and buoyancy, application of gravitational theorems, to the varying psychological impacts of camaraderie to team sports, and a collective approach on nutrition and muscle building; he wants to rip the entire bookshelf and bring them all to his room.

He’s kidding though, because his puny arms can only hold so much and his stunt may lead him to detention, or suspension, or expulsion, which will automatically disqualify him for Regionals, and his sacrifices will be all for naught. Then his Rin-senpai will graduate and go to Australia to become a full-fledged Olympian and Aiichirou will then never have the chance to swim at a relay with him, because his Rin-senpai will be popular by then and all Aiichirou will be known for is his failure to live up to his word due to the little stunt at a certain school library.

A hand flies to his line of vision, an apology already bubbling out of instinct, inching away, when he pauses and catches a familiar set of jagged teeth set in an amused grin.

Rin-senpai wears a thoughtful expression. “What are you planning?”

“I was contemplating on dragging the entire bookshelf to the dormitories,” he says, feels heat crawl up from his neck and Rin’s mirth erupts to a chuckle. He can never truly lie to his Rin-senpai, and Rin’s already use of his blatancy of sharing the wildest of his thoughts.

“I did say I want to swim on the same team as you with pride, senpai,” he says to lighten the mood, the heat still on his cheeks, bashful now because he doesn’t want to come across as conceited, but the dignity of his words is intact and unpretentious. 

“How could I possibly forget?” There is an odd way by which those words are put together, an unspeakable gentleness seeping through the tight seams, passing, intent, a perfect synchrony with the softness that grazed his features, that for a little while Aiichirou thinks he sees Rin _glow_.

“W-what?” he stammers, self-conscious. Maybe there is a smudge on his face or something stuck in his teeth?

“You look different,” Rin says, the softness reaching his eyes.

“The bangs?” he tries.

Kazuki Minami recently trimmed his hair from split ends, layering his tailored bowl-cut so that the fringes frame his face nicely. Chlorine can be very unforgiving to the crowning glory, and his recent nightly escapades dedicated to better his best have his hair suffer the consequences. He isn’t the type of person who has a major fondness for trends and style appropriation—his hair is an awkward shade of grey and blue (purple on lowlights) that clashes with the majority of his pastel wardrobes—but when it comes to tastes, he trusts the guy who can keep his spikes in place even after submerged underwater.

“Yeah, that too,” Rin says; the odd softness still in his gaze and words. Without warming, he drops the book to Aiichirou’s waiting hands. “This is all you need.”

The book is light, eyes briefly catching the Fundamentals of Breaststroke and Modern Techniques on the cover, about the width of both of his hands and gifted with pages he can finish reading in one seating. Trust his Rin-senpai to set his priorities straight in one go.

“Thank you very much!” his outburst is met by a collective shush from the library patron; the blush he sports shades deeper rouge.

Rin’s laugh is blithe and carefree. “It’s best to go back reviewing.” He points his thumb on a corner between the reference and archive sections where his books and journals lay in a heap—a very organized, structured heap—eyes widening rapidly at the abundance of texts and lessons his senpai missed. “Make-up study sessions don’t study by themselves, sadly.”

Aiichirou notes the tinge of exhaustion in his senpai’s tone, and his alarm goes flying to the roofs. Between academic and extra-curricular, Rin-senpai must have had it rough. Maintaining his members’ performance is rough, combining his studies seems a perilous undertaking, but despite all, he still manages to find time for his family and friends, and concern himself with Aiichirou’s tiny, shallow, inconsiderate predicament at swimming.

“Don’t give me that.” Rin pry him away from the dark tunnel of self-deprecation with a knowing look. “This is something I want to do for myself.”

Rin-senpai’s tough, he knows, though he feels there is a need to be of help, because as much as close to perfection Rin may be, the chiseling challenges can be trying and his body can only take so much.

Aiichirou smiles. He may just have the thing.

“You know, there’s a big event organized this week at the dog park, senpai,” he says, expectant.

At the mention of dogs, Rin instantly brightens. They share a fascination for dogs and animals, often a much discussed topic during their stay together last year. It has always been Aiichirou surefire signs that his senpai isn’t as cold and heartless as he tries to be.

“Tachibana-san and I are going.”

“Makoto?”

Aiichirou nods enthusiastically. “We met during the orientation. I was surprised he’s active in these types of events.”

“Makoto’s the kind to sign up for anything remotely beneficial for others,” Rin-senpai’s remark is lacking its usual bite, which isn’t a complete surprise Aiichirou. Out of all his Iwatobi friends, Makoto Tachibana is the least person to be at the receiving end of Rin-senpai’s engineered hostility.

He’s an extremely likeable man; tall, broad shouldered and well-built that can put even the most trained athletes to shame, with fine bloom green eyes, sandy hair stylishly unkempt, a particularly handsome face that Aiichirou finds admirable, and a look of great sweetness. It’s in the tone he uses, altruistic and tempered; in the manner he relates to others, graceless but dutifully principled; in the way his eyes speaks of strength and genuine consideration, feeling, attentive, so artlessly impressed by the simplest of the mundane that the sense to voice his appreciation seems instinctive, natural, venerating. None of their conversations struck as remarkably clever unlike his Rin-senpai’s, but he does find Tachibana-san rather engaging—not awkwardly reserved and a very excellent listener. He’s the type of person one would want for an acquaintance and a friend to keep for a lifetime.

“He’s the Angel of the Lord,” Rin says, reading his face.

That one’s been growled with sarcasm, which Aiichirou has the every courage pointing out, “Don’t be so mean. Tachibana-san is a very nice person.”

“I wasn’t mean. That is the fault of his character: he’s too damn nice.”

Granted the truth lies with the statement, though it does not justify the acerbity of the response. “It’s not what you say. It’s how you say it that was offensive, Rin-senpai.” Rin does not apologize much to Aiichirou’s annoyance, though judging from the tinge of his cheeks and slight discomfort of clenched teeth, the averted gaze and the hand rubbing circles at the back of his neck, Rin’s reevaluating the coarseness of his actions, making the Aiichirou’s grin again.

“The world needs a lot of nice person,” Aiichirou reasons, “so if you’re free, you’re welcome to volunteer with us. It’ll be lots of fun.”

“When is it?”

“This Sunday.”

“Shoot.” Rin’s remorse reaches the heavens. “Sunday’s family day.”

“That sounds like a better plan!” Aiichirou blurts out of habit.

“Does it?” Again, Rin-senpai tries to sound like it is a pain, but the truth of the matter is that he will gladly give up any humanitarian event for a chance to bond with his family—he is that kind of a good person.

“But I’m free next month,” Rin slides in for consideration. “If there’s another event, I’ll be glad to join you.”

“I’ll keep you posted, then.” Aiichirou is certain to keep his promise. “Thanks again, senpai. Don’t overwork yourself.” He waves the book and his concern as a parting remark.

“As you,” Rin reaches one final time—Aiichirou thinks his head is about to be messed again—pulls him closer, so close that Aiichirou can feel his breath tickle his ear. “And good luck with that blue eyed monster.” Rin sends him off and returns to his seat without further ado, casual, sprightly in his gait with hands in his pockets, in a distinctively uncharacteristic affable mood.

Tracing the heat that curls his ear on one hand, holding his book closer with the other, Aiichirou wonders what brought that on. And who is the blue-eyed monster?

* * *

He pins that question to the back of his mind as he trails the familiar road back to his dorm room. On his breaks, Aiichirou tries to find time to facilitate Momo’s studying. It is a senpai’s duty to make sure his kouhai’s taking his responsibilities in school as seriously as he takes his part in the team. That is the deal of rooming first and second years together, and as great and fructuous as Aiichirou’s desire to join the relay is, he is not about to abandon the accountability.

Momotarou Mikoshiba isn’t exactly the studious type, the struggle between his roommate and education a grand feat, but he’s not exactly hopeless either—unfocused to the verge of easy distraction, he is, but very far from an airhead. He is quick-witted, street smarty, and can maintain some semblance of a passable mark, if he tries with a passion. He just isn’t fond of routine, repetition and a majority of reiteration that comes along with studying.

Such is why the great is his surprise upon reaching their shared room, the floors ridded of scattered mangas, toy generals and crawling lifeforms in favor of sticky notes, various references and Momo-kun, the very picture of diligence and focus, hunched over his desk, chewing the tip of his pencil in dire hopes of understanding what seems to be the geometry of Parallelograms.

“Wow!”

His exclamation of glee draws Momo’s attention from his work, looking up and recognizing, and finally greeting, “Good evening, senpai! Great work today!”

Aiichirou returns the custom, but focuses on the miracle of the universe unfolding before his very eyes. “You’re studying!” It’s almost as good as finding their room clutter-free minutes away from dorm inspection care of their neighbors, Rin-senpai and Yamazaki-senpai.

"But Momo-kun, you don’t like studying.”

Momo rubs the back of his head, laughing sheepishly. “Did you know that members can be disqualified from competitions if they fail any of their subjects?” Aiichirou nods in good favor. “I just found out from Nakagawa-senpai. Now that you’re… out most of the time, I’d figure to try and do some studying on my own.

“Senpai, you’re trying your best for a chance to join the medley so I thought… Someone who is on the team and is representing the school should show a decent amount dedication too! We can’t let that person’s efforts go to waste. We all have our demons to slay and our battles to win, whether it’s studying or beating our records. We should do what we can do for the team. And I know your main motivation is Rin-senpai. It’s his final year, but I just want you to know that I… Iwashimizu-senpai’s cool. But I want to swim with someone who inspires me to be better. I… I want to swim in the relay with you too, senpai!”

His heart does that thing called skipping—not out of affection, or amusement, but out of pride. The little otter pup has grown up a quite bit while he isn’t watching that Aiichirou feels tearing a bit. “Momo-kun…”

Momo flusters and flails, embarrassment twining with sincerity choking back his words and setting fire on his face. “But not in that way! Rin-senpai will hunt me down!”

Aiichirou thinks he’s adorable and confusing at the same time, schooling his expression to show the extent, “Why would Rin-senpai hunt you down?”

It takes a while for Momo’s message to sink in, and when it does, Ai’s frown considerably dips. After all that has happened, after all he’s been going through… Aiichirou groans out loud. “This is still an _issue_?”

The pitch he uses has Momo focusing on the patterns of the floor, like a mouse that has been trapped by a great cat; lips pursed, quiet, a waging battle of wills in his head. Very quietly, as if in form of surrender, he picks up his phone from its perch on the upper ledge of his desk.

“We have a small private group,” Momo begins, presenting the screen, “for the betting game.”

Aiichirou prides himself for being a calm and collected person, someone who can keep his head cool even if the world is strewn to absolute desolation and turmoil. Dealing with a dark, brooding, angst-ridden teenager for the majority of his first year in high school can give one that confidence boost. But nothing he has experienced so far has him torn between mortification and further mortification, eyes darting from threads after threads after threads—the betting game intensifying to the point wherean official fan page is created, a sizable amount of members participating, the considerable numbers of the post listed are the trending topic alert on the set of pictures from this afternoon at the library shared by Samezuka Dai Ryouno.

 “Nagisa-senpai went flying to the moon,” remarks Momo.

“I can see that,” Aiichirou replies with little strength, noting the emoticon Hazuki-san utilized after winning 20,000 yen for the famed library incident, skipping to the manifesto Mikoshiba-buchou has made for them. It would appear the recent spree at the prefectural tournaments has their well-regarded former captain of the swim team heavily inspired thus the excessive usage of graphs and charts. That or he’s dallying on his collegiate studies again—a trait that Aiichirou would like to bet runs in the Mikoshiba veins.

Interesting to point out: the game is named after him, but most of the topics, if not all, are connected or loosely related to his relationship with Rin, as if there _is_ a relationship other than profound admiration and mutual respect; a fact which Aiichirou finds disturbing.  

Despite of which, Momo’s commentary manages to rise up from the cesspool of betting mechanisms, pie charts, meta-analyses, and ever increasing fan count in favor of one careful evaluation.

“Nagisa- _senpai_?”

“He insists.” Momo does not seem all too proud. “He says he deserves it for extending the betting game to Iwatobi, and his sisters.”

Aiichirou senses his jaw dropping. Desperately, he takes hold of his chair, lightheaded and drained, feeling the earth spin around and its contents along with it—a breather sounds right just about now.

* * *

Sunday arrives, for which Aiichirou is grateful for the benevolent heavens. Such is his relief to spend the day away from the meddlesome rumormongers that is the lot of his friends, who should be more concerned over their love lives than his, to be honest. He refuses to marginalize his feelings around romance. Rin-senpai deserves far better than that. Though he doubts his friends understand that concept, much less willing to hear him out. They are too far down the RinAi madness.

Nothing a day around furry little animals won’t cure!

Today he is Aiichirou Nitori: Dog Lover. He can be the most of himself without anyone drawing a parallel to his Rin-senpai, and he has a menagerie of the most adorable puppies imaginable to thank for that.

Of course, he’s partially spending the day with Tachibana-san if they grab hold of each other on this busy day, but with everyone running about, hastily assembling the preparations and polishing the line-up of events, what are the odds?

The odds are considerably higher than expected, as upon arriving the he finds a familiar face—Aiichirou to some extent blames himself for not foreseeing this meeting beforehand. He should have known where there is Makoto Tachibana in sight, Haruka Nanase shouldn’t be at least two feet away, and there is he, his Rin-senpai’s favorite rival, manning the registry with his charismatic face and his barely-there smile.

Aiichirou smiles his brightest, “Good morning, Nanase-san!”

Haruka Nanase regards him with a curt nod. “Rin’s love.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahaha, as you can see, the scenes have taken a route to the shoujo side of events. Also, it has too many ramblings. I’ll try to keep it to a minimum next time. Or next next time…
> 
> Dai Ryouno is that Samezuka member with a one-liner Rin had called out in the Freestyle Relay line-up, but we never got to see his face. I imagine him being the buff swimmer near Iwashimizu all the time, but that’s just my imagination.
> 
> And yes, for those who are concerned, Makoto Tachibana is everything I want in a man and so much more. Please marry Haru and make me the most happiest (redundancy necessary) person in the world.
> 
> The next chapter should be done by the end of February or first week of March. I already have the plot aligned; it’s just that life has caught up with me again. You are the best people to write for! Thank you very much for all the positive vibes! :D

**Author's Note:**

> So that’s the first part! May I just say that the Samezuka Second Years are so fun to write and I’ll abuse them as much as I could if given the chance? For the next succeeding chapters, we will go through Makoto, Haru, Nagisa, Momo, Sousuke, Sei, and Rin. And a Nagisa-Ai date. Also, I think I’ll squeeze in a dog park, and massages, and rainbow farts. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading! :D Kudos and comments are much appreciated!


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